I am reading a passage from the Big Book. In English, with a translation. Page eighty-seven. Into Action. The text is about one thing: swap the steering. Not “I control everything” for “I control myself”. For something different again — I hand over the direction and I act. My first reaction is what it always is: what bloody radio? What cosmos? The answer is simple. Not the cosmos. Not the radio. A pause and a question — what is the next honest step? The voice does not come from outside. It is that voice inside which is not an impulse, is not
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